Somnambulist
by illyrilex
Summary: One-shot: In the wake of the Mansion Incident Chris learns about one of Jill's more interesting quirks. UPDATED 08/2014: re-written here and there.


**How's it going, people? Another sleepless night found me enthusiastically elaborating on an event that was briefly mentioned in my previous story, Infirmary.**

**As you know, all characters belong to none other than Capcom.**

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><p>It was 2:34 A.M. and Chris Redfield was wide awake. The previous week's gruesome events in the Arklay Mountains had seriously fucked him up: All but four of his teammates were dead - killed by things that shouldn't have even existed outside of horror movies - because their Captain betrayed them to gather "research" for one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the world. The chief of Raccoon City's Police Department was almost completely indifferent to the catastrophe that wiped out most of the S.T.A.R.S. unit; he did little more than shrug his shoulders before dissolving the team and ordering the surviving members to attend mandatory grief counseling. On top of that, all attempts to go straight to the media with the truth about Umbrella failed, each journalist believing the battered officers had lost their goddamn minds.<p>

It was good times.

Chris sharply exhaled. He felt frustrated, edgy, and outright pissed off. R.P.D.'s douchebag of a shrink had gently assured him that anger was one of the five stages in the grieving process – something he didn't need to be reminded of. The marksman was all too familiar with grief; when his parents died he experienced the entire range of emotions that came with such a life-changing calamity and then some. However, the anger he felt now wasn't the same as it was back then – this was much more focused, more intense. Somebody was going to pay for what happened out there, and that "somebody" was Umbrella. It was going to take a lot of work, but somehow, that wretched company would be exposed for what it really was – and he would be there to watch it crumble. As Chris lay there in the dark, he began to feel restless… and hungry: He had a tendency toward stress-eating, though it never showed thanks to his active lifestyle. He had an almost overwhelming urge to run to the kitchen and raid the refrigerator, but he didn't think the person sleeping beside him would appreciate that.

In the days since the "Mansion Incident," Chris's friend and partner, Jill, displayed some surprisingly normal behaviours for somebody who had been through such a massive trauma. The therapist, whose files were alarmingly easy to filch, labeled her as "showing signs of a depressive disorder," but Chris wasn't entirely sure if that assessment was accurate. She was definitely a bit melancholy, but other than shrinking into herself at seemingly random intervals, it appeared she was handling things extremely well: The only _really_ noticeable changes in Jill's demeanor were a new-found love of overly caffeinated beverages, and startlingly dark circles under her eyes. When she called a few hours ago, Chris quickly put aside his own feelings of agitation and willingly obliged when she asked him to come over. Upon his arrival at her disaster of an apartment, she greeted him with a small smile and confessed that she was legitimately scared of being alone. She hadn't been able to sleep without the help of Nyquil or pills, which lead her to awkwardly ask Chris if he would stay over and just lay down with her for a while.

_"You smell good and have really comfortable shoulders,"_ she had said quite seriously.

Sharing a bed with Jill was no big deal. In the two years Chris had known her, the two were brought together by mundane patrols, gunfire, and a mutual adoration of breasts; it was like having another sibling. Nevertheless, his presence genuinely appeared to help: Jill had fallen asleep, sans drugs, within minutes.

Chris thought about how Forest and the rest of the guys would react to this turn of events. Him and Jill in the same bed? Scandalous! Why not move a little closer? Surely, Jill Valentine could be swayed to the "Dark Side!" Chris rolled his eyes and smiled. _Those fuckin' guys,_ he thought ruefully. In an effort to get comfortable, he bunched up the pillow under his head and turned on his side; he was startled when he saw, through the illumination of the LED alarm clock, that his colleague was looking right at him.

Staring, actually.

"What are you doing up, Valentine?" Chris asked quietly.

Jill didn't reply: she laid perfectly still, her face devoid of any expression. It freaked Chris out a little – and it took a lot to freak him out. Especially now.

"Jill?" He spoke a little louder but it was clear that it didn't register: Her wide, unblinking eyes sent a chill down his spine. Jill slowly sat up and wordlessly climbed out of bed; Chris sat up as well, his heart pounding. He thought of zombies as he watched her shuffle out of the room.

_Holy shit, what if she's infected?_ he thought to himself with a feeling of dread. The idea of having to put a bullet in his partner's brain made him feel sick.

It was then that Chris heard the unmistakable sound of liquid hitting liquid coming from the bathroom. He listened, slightly embarrassed, as he realized that Jill must have been in there urinating. It occurred to him that those... things didn't urinate. A moment later came the sound of the toilet flushing followed by the sink being turned on and off. Jill slowly re-entered the bedroom and walked over to her side of the bed where she stood, unblinking and swaying slightly, as water dripped from her hands.

"Jill?" Chris asked cautiously: That eerie swaying motion was seriously damaging his calm. After another minute or so, Jill climbed back into bed, curled up under the covers and closed her eyes. She let out a quiet sigh and didn't move. She was completely unconscious.

_What the FUCK was that?!_ Chris asked himself as he stared down at the sleeping woman, completely bewildered by what he just saw. He took a deep breath and rushed out of the room: As he hastily approached the refrigerator he made a mental note to reimburse Jill for all the food he was about to eat the living shit out of.

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><p>Quick notes because I'm cool like that:<p>

_* Somnambulism (AKA sleepwalking) can be caused by factors such as fever, excessive tiredness, or sleep deprivation; people that experience this awake in a state of what's called low-consciousness and usually perform simple acts (sitting up in bed, going to the bathroom, cleaning, or in some cases, eating)._

_* Actually seeing somebody sleepwalk is hella creepy. If you've never witnessed it before, consider yourself lucky. Seriously._

_* It's implied that Jill isn't into the menfolk. However, I don't know any chick, gay or straight, who hasn't checked out someone's boobs._

_* The line about damaged calm is a reference to Joss Whedon's Serenity (because I loves me my movie and pop-culture references)._

Thanks for reading and/or reviewing! Cheers~


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